


Honey, Don't Feed Me I Will Come Back.

by CaramelKruze



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Kinda, Lorelei and Zer0 are only briefly mentioned, M/M, This is mainly Rhys thinking about Handsome Jack and the effect he's had on him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23555785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaramelKruze/pseuds/CaramelKruze
Summary: Not that he didn’t enjoy what he had now. He would choose what he had now over anything the past could have offered him, and yet…
Relationships: Timothy Lawrence/Rhys
Kudos: 15





	Honey, Don't Feed Me I Will Come Back.

It wasn’t that he missed him. He didn’t. It was just that after spending so much time with someone so close all the time, having them always be there, it was hard not to at least _expect_ them to be there. When for the longest time they were the first thing to greet you when you woke up and the last thing you would see at the end of the day, there was a sense of routine and stability; and stability was comforting. Stability was comforting; he was not. That was his defence: it was the stability that he missed, not Jack. 

Rhys had grown accustomed to the company during those days, and much slower he had grown accustomed to being alone again. Doing things without the assistance of Jack was slower, if only marginally, and quieter. There was no constant string of commentary on the world around him. It was just Rhys. 

Maybe it wasn’t the stability. Maybe there was something else, something he would never want to admit to himself, but he had to acknowledge. 

Jack was powerful. Jack had confidence. Jack could take the world and put it in his hands like that was where it belonged. He spoke like the people around him existed for the sole purpose of hearing him speak. When someone that confident and that powerful guides your every move for so long, you get accustomed to that. Rhy’s confidence felt like an extension of Jack’s, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss that feeling. Finally feeling like you were on top after so many years of being stepped on by those around you was an addicting feeling and a dangerous one at that. 

That was also why he couldn’t bring himself to destroy the ECHO eye that held the A.I. 

He stared at the box on his shelf that held the eye within it. 

A part of him wanted nothing to do with Jack. Wanted the man to stay dead and gone as he should have in the first place. But another, deeper part of him felt like it was wrong; like it would be destroying a part of himself that never was. His last tie to the life he had wanted so terribly before. 

Not that he didn’t enjoy what he had now. He would choose what he had now over anything the past could have offered him, and yet… 

What he had now was more than fine. He had a company of his own, friends that he could actually trust, and Timothy. All things considered, life was good; so why did he always end up in this same spot, staring at the box. 

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, he flinched but quickly relaxed when he realized it was only Timothy. He raised his hand to rest on Timothy’s. He knew about everything that had happened, Rhys had told him long before. He also understood it, he had dealt with Jack for far longer than Rhys had, a different experience, but there was a common understanding between the two. Timothy had his own ghosts that haunted him, courtesy of Jack. Despite looking like the man they both hated, Timothy was absolutely nothing like him. Timothy was softer, uncertain, and a hell of a lot nicer. He still shared some of the mannerisms of Jack, those were hard to unlearn when your entire job and life revolved and depended upon acting like a different person. It was mostly when he was nervous. His speech patterns would mimic that of Jack, trying to leech some of the artificial confidence. 

“You think you’re ready to let him go yet?” Timothy spoke softly. 

Rhys thought for a moment, and let out a defeated sigh. 

“I really want to. I swear.” Rhy’s grip on Timothy’s hand tightened a little. “I don’t know why I can’t.” 

Timothy shifted to wrap his arm around his waist instead, Rhys leaned into the touch. 

“You’ll get there.” The silence that followed was oddly comforting. Finally, Timothy spoke again, “Lorelei and Zer0 are waiting downstairs, you still wanna go?” 

Rhys knew that he could cancel and Timothy wouldn’t question a thing, and neither would the others. He stared at the box for a second longer, took a breath, then turned to Timothy and smiled. “Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> When I started this it was supposed to be a lot more angst, but then I wanted to add Timothy and this happened instead. It might be a little scattered because I was writing this at 3 AM. The title is from "It Will Come Back" by Hozier which is what inspired the first half, and then the last half was more of a "Wasteland, Baby!" vibe to be honest.


End file.
